


Warmth

by Lafaiette



Category: Deadpool (Comics), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff under the rain, M/M, Sexual innuendos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-23
Updated: 2013-11-23
Packaged: 2018-01-02 10:48:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1055885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lafaiette/pseuds/Lafaiette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>However, despite the freezing rain still falling incessantly around them, Peter feels warm, content, <i>complete</i> and he knows Wade feels like that too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Warmth

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Miss_L](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_L/gifts).



> For the amazing Miss_L!

It’s raining hard and the air is chilly, but Peter isn’t cold and miserable as everyone would usually be in this situation, because Wade is right at his side, holding the umbrella and warming him with his big, bulky body and an arm around his shoulders.

Peter pulls him closer, gripping his hoodie and listening to his deep voice resonating strong in his ear.

Wade has been talking incessantly about some TV show they absolutely have to watch and Peter smiles as his boyfriend keeps listing all the amazing features, characters and details, so much the young man is pretty sure he’s spoilering him.

It’s night and the city lights are bright and colorful around them and the road towards home looks almost without end, hidden by the mist and raindrops.

Peter can already imagine what they are going to do once they are comfy and dry at home: he will make dinner while Wade does the laundry with their wet clothes (and Peter will tell him to wash his hoodie, because it’s starting to stink). Wade will make two or three dirty jokes about the rain - “You are wet, Peter, I can see it. Come here, I’ll use my special _blow_ dryer.”

Peter giggles just thinking about this scene that he’s 100% sure will happen and Wade stops talking to look at him quizzically.

“What? What did I say? I was just complaining about vodka, it’s so strong it could even get _me_ drunk after few glasses!” Wade looks terrified all of a sudden. “Please don’t ever drink it, baby boy. You would die on the spot.”

“How did you end up talking about vodka?” Peter keeps giggling as they carefully avoid the puddles scattered across the street. Wade frowns, pretending to be deeply wounded.

“You weren’t listening!” he indignantly exclaims. “In fact I thought you were looking at me with a too much dreamy face! Not that I complain about that… But still!”

“Sorry.” Peter kisses him and he has to stand on his tiptoes to reach perfectly Wade’s chapped lips. “I was thinking about you and your innuendos.”

“Oh, poetry then! You are so romantic, Petey.”

Wade pulls him closer, brushing his butt with a hand, and Peter gives him his special look that means _“I like what are you doing, but there are people and children here”_. As usual Wade expertly ignores it and pinches a firm buttcheek, making the young man squeal and people turn at them surprised by the unmanly sound.

“Wade!” Peter hisses, blush spreading on his face as they resume walking. The scarred man just laughs, playing with his earlobe, licking and kissing it, and Peter thinks he shouldn’t really feel so warm - no, _hot_ , because it’s winter and it’s raining and he’s sure water entered his old shoes.

“Wade, don’t give me a boner in the middle of a crowded street, please.” he giggles and groans at the same time.

“Oh? Am I arousing you, Peter? By just doing this?” Wade’s voice is hoarser and deeper than before and Peter knows he’s doing that on purpose, to melt him right there without mercy.

The young man _adores_ that voice and there are moments when he could really do anything if Wade asked him using it. But Peter knows his lover well too, so he counterattacks with a sweet and wicked smile and slips a hand under Wade’s hoodie, caressing the rough scarred skin.

Wade’s eyes widen and he tenses in surprise for a moment, immediately relaxing when Peter’s hand goes on his back and starts following the scars and maze-like pattern with his long fingers.

“Peter, you know I don’t care if we do it in public.” Wade groans as they stop near a dark alleyway. He eyes it longingly and nods at it while looking at Peter with a waggle of his eyebrows.

“No, knucklehead.” Peter answers, but his smile doesn’t fade and both his hands are on Wade’s skin now.

“I can’t touch you well with this!” the scarred man whines petulantly as he shakes the umbrella, sending drops and cold water at the people walking past them. “I can use only one hand!”

Peter pulls his head down using the hem of his hood and kisses him again, while his other hand reaches Wade’s chest and  the merc’s one cups his cheek. Peter closes his eyes and leans into the warm touch, playing with the scarred fingers that try to squeeze his lips.

“What was that innuendo you were thinking about?” Wade hoarsely asks and Peter, eyes still closed, licks his index finger answering with a smile: “Your blow dryer. Also known as your amazing mouth.”

He hears Wade snort and then his hand cups his cheek again; Peter opens his eyes, returning Wade’s sweet look.

They stay like for other long minutes, kissing and whispering stupid jokes, until Wade finally says: “Let’s go home, baby boy. I don’t want you to catch a cold.”

However, despite the freezing rain still falling incessantly around them, Peter feels warm, content, _complete_ and he knows Wade feels like that too.

So they return home, enjoying the warmth in their smiles and heart.


End file.
